


Operation: Christmas Surprise

by sanguisuga



Series: Aberrant Fragments [10]
Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, And more negotiation, Barebacking, Biting, Christmas, Cock Worship, Consent is a biggie, Fluff, Greg is very thorough, I mean...Feelings do Happen, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, Morning After, Mycroft is a bit of a Ho Ho Ho, Nonverbal Subspace, Not that Greg is objecting, PWP, Praise Kink, Smut, Teasing, d/s dynamics, kind of, mystrade, negotiation, perhaps?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 13,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8845696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: Wherein Mycroft Holmes presents DI Lestrade with a - well - present...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little bit of something that was started during a writing workshop at the Sherlock Seattle convention held in October of this year. Specifically the Erotica Workshop, of course. The participants chose little slips of paper containing a location, a prompt and a sex act. I got 'Battersea', 'something unexpected happens at Christmas', and 'bareback'. There was also an option to pick characters, but of course I knew who I was going to write about. I mean, c'mon - I'm nothing but certified Mystrade trash at this point, right?
> 
> What started out as a 400 word drabble has bloomed into something far more convoluted, and I've been fiddling with it off and on since the convention. And of course I'm impatient to share, so I'm going to lay out a little teaser at first to see what kind of interest it might generate. (If you follow my tumblr, you may have already seen this, but what the heck.)
> 
> There's nothing quite like fluffy - and hopefully hot as hell - smut for the holidays!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments are highly, highly appreciated! Feed the muse - she's a greedy lil thing...

Lestrade huffed out a long, irritated sigh as he pulled up to Battersea, surveying the outside of the imposing structure with a tinge of unease roiling in his chest. At least this was moderately better than being hauled off by anonymous goons as per Mr. Mycroft Motherfucking Holmes’ usual method, but still - what the hell could be so important as to require his presence on _tonight_ of all nights?

After all, he knew with stark certainty that this was not one of the younger Holmes’ danger nights. In fact, Sherlock was no doubt already tucked up in bed, as he had been somewhat deep in his cups right from the start of John’s little do. His usual prim posture had steadily listed to one side as he struggled to manoeuvre his fork from plate to mouth without losing any of its precious cargo; much to the amusement of everyone at table. Greg had spirited himself away from Baker Street near the end of a very relaxing meal, and although John had been a bit put out over the untimely interruption by His Royal Highness’ texted summons, he had also ushered his friend to the door with a distinctly relieved air of,  _‘Better you than me, mate’_.

Lestrade was a bit surprised to catch sight of a soft flicker of light glowing through the cracks of the open door as he approached around the side, but it was clearly an invitation, so he steeled himself and slipped through silently. He paused just inside, blinking his eyes to ensure that he wasn’t experiencing some kind of optical illusion. _Hm._ Maybe he’d have to slip a small sample of Mrs. Hudson’s rum punch to Molly for a thorough analysis to ensure there wasn’t any form of illicit substance on the ingredient list...

Shaking his head briefly, he reluctantly followed the neat trail of multi-coloured fairy lights, pacing softly around the large machinery that was humming away rather pleasantly. Again he had to pause as he rounded the last corner, his body automatically taking a step back to reconsider the sight that he was suddenly and unexpectedly presented with. Greg closed his eyes and reviewed the image that was now seared on his retinas, striving to ignore the jolt of electricity low in his belly.

Letting out a quietly breathed, “Oh, fuck it,” he squared his shoulders and strode out from his hiding place.

Mycroft looked up from where he was lounging beside a sodding tree festooned with lights and tinsel, his face soft and open and entirely too enticing. He fiddled idly with the edges of the large red bow that was wrapped around his naked waist, concealing his - well - ‘package’.

“Happy Christmas, Detective Inspector Lestrade.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'll be putting up short but sweet chapters of ~500 words or so. In skimming through the bits that I've already written, it works out surprisingly well that way. And of course I do like to tantalise my lovely readers... 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the comments that I've already received. I heart you all!!
> 
> (Please do continue to comment - they help keep me going!)

“The fuck?”

The elder Holmes’ eyebrows shot up. “Not exactly the response I had anticipated.”

Lestrade sighed and put his hands on his waist, slipping his fingers underneath his belt to prevent them from reaching out and doing anything potentially embarrassing - or perhaps even life-threatening, considering who he was dealing with. Even on his own and nearly starkers, he knew that the man before him was undoubtedly the most dangerous individual in London, perhaps even in the entirety of the British Isles.

Greg shook his head. “And just what was it that you had ‘anticipated’, then?” He abruptly lifted a hand as Mycroft began to speak, a certain sense of frustration welling up in his chest. “Wait. I just have to...” Mycroft gestured for him to continue as he sank back into the cushions of the plush velvet chaise, resuming his no doubt very carefully pre-arranged pose.

Greg hissed out a short curse and clenched his hands into fists as he paced in front of him. “You goddamned Holmeses and your goddamned games and secrets and lies and and and...” He let out a brief if sincerely aggravated shout, inordinately pleased when Mycroft twitched rather awkwardly in surprise, his long limbs flailing briefly. Greg turned back and levelled a finger at his stupidly intriguing nose, wagging it at him fiercely. “Did it never occur to you lot to just _ask_ for what you want?” He threw up his arms as Mycroft blinked at him in confusion. “No! Of course not!” He started pacing again, a trifle befuddled at his own behaviour, but far too gone to try to put a stop to it. “Always have to be clever, always have to prove your superiority over everyone else in the entire world, don’t you? Well, I for one am _sick_ of it - done with the whole lot of you.”

Greg froze in place as a quiet, silky chuckle rolled down his spine. He refused to turn his head even as he caught motion out of the corner of his eye, the soft rasping sound of satin shifting against velvet resounding in his ears. He swallowed hard as Mycroft purred low. “I must apologise for my shocking lack of manners, mustn’t I? You are undoubtedly correct, Detective Inspector. It would have been far more expedient had I just asked, however...”

Greg finally turned back as the sinful voice drifted away, his breath coming out as a garbled noise at the sight of the British Government on his knees, grasping at the back of the chaise. The curve in his spine was just as precisely calculated as that damn bow, and the glint of something shining between his arse-cheeks filled Greg with an almost overwhelming need that he hadn’t felt in a very,  _very_ long time.

He took a reluctant step closer as Mycroft looked at him over one delightfully freckled shoulder, the lights from the tree reflecting in his auburn hair, the expression on his face shifting back into something almost vulnerable. “I suppose that I merely wished to ensure that you would acquiesce to said request.”

Greg swallowed hard as he grasped the material of his jeans in his fists. “You won’t know until you _do_ ask, will you?”

Mycroft lifted himself up a bit on his knees, tilting his hips even further back to expose more of the jewel held between his cheeks. “Detective Inspector Lestrade. Will you fuck me?” He blushed faintly as Greg lifted an expectant eyebrow. “Please?”

Greg let out a harried breath. “Fucking _finally_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tra la la! Mycroft is such a naughty lad!
> 
> (Please keep commenting, my lovelies - I bestow feathery kisses upon you all!)

Whatever undeniably snarky comment Mycroft was prepared to utter was completely wiped from brain and tongue as he felt Lestrade’s hands close around his hips, rough and warm and utterly divine. He rolled his arse against the promising hardness pressing into him, striving to maintain some sense of decorum, but his usual calm and poised internal voice had devolved into that of a giddy child proclaiming, _‘oh, but he is a nice_ fat _one, and so happy to see_ you _!’_

Mycroft snorted laughter through his nose, but nearly choked on it as Greg took a step back, grasping both of his arse-cheeks and squeezing them hard before his thumbs pressed down on the base of the plug. Greg hummed low as Mycroft jumped and trembled under his touch, his eyes tracing down the long line of his spine as gooseflesh rippled up his back. “Lovely.” He cleared his throat as Mycroft cast him an oblique glance from over his shoulder. “Supplies?”

Greg smirked as Mycroft reluctantly pulled away from him, reaching for something on the other side of the chaise. Quite unable to resist, he quickly grasped the red crystal tucked between Mycroft’s cheeks and gave it a twist and a push. He grinned maliciously and pushed harder as long limbs jerked and nearly upset the smallish basket that had been retrieved. Mycroft’s cheeks were blazing red as he glared, shoving the basket in Greg’s direction before resuming his previous position with a little huff.

Greg didn’t hesitate to snug himself up close again, once more grinding his stiff prick up against a lean and surprisingly firm bottom. He ignored the small _‘tsk’_ of irritation as he plopped the basket right down on the small of Mycroft’s back, immediately digging through it. Lube, yes, flannels and an unopened package of sanitary wipes - how thoughtful. Greg’s eyebrows lifted as he pulled out a small golden vibrator, a posh variation on the ever-useful pocket rocket. He gave it a quick twist and licked his lips as it buzzed into life, the soft gasp that Mycroft uttered at the sound zinging straight to his bollocks.

Hm - maybe. Greg turned it off and dropped it back in the basket and pulled out yet another unexpected party favour, a soft leather strap dotted with snaps. Oh yes, this would definitely come in handy... He frowned as he dug through to the bottom, picking up one last flannel and shaking it out fruitlessly. Greg sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he lifted his face to the ceiling.

“Of all the things you could have forgotten to bring...”

Mycroft glanced back at him. “I don’t forget things, Detective Inspector.”

Greg growled low as he stepped back, planting his hands on his hips. “You planned all _this_ ,” he gestured wildly to tree and chaise and bejeweled bum, “just to get _fucked_ , and then you go and fucking forget to bring _condoms._ Fuck’s sake, Holmes! That should have been item number one on your ‘Operation: Shag DI Lestrade’ inventory!” He bit his lip as he took another step away from temptation, silently trying to convince his vociferously protesting cock that a quick wank would feel just as good as being buried in that pert little arse. He shook his head in frustration, as that was a hopeless argument that unfortunately both he and his cock knew all too well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had hoped to post this yesterday, but work ugggghhhhh... 
> 
> Kisses to you all, please comment!

Mycroft sighed quietly as he sat back on his heels, turning slightly to face him. For some reason, the large bow that was still wrapped around his waist seemed far less comical than it had been when Greg first caught sight of it. Now it just looked somewhat quaint, and even sweet in a romantic if somewhat cheesy way. Mycroft ducked his head briefly before looking up and catching his eyes. “I said... I don’t _forget_ things, Detective Inspector. I deliberately left that particular item off the list, you see.”

Greg huffed out a disbelieving breath. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart Holmes - not the rash one that heedlessly throws himself into danger.”

Mycroft’s lips twisted. “Do give me _some_ credit, would you? I’ve done my risk assessment - there _is_ no danger. I’m clean, and so are you, despite all of your ex-wife’s dalliances.”

Greg felt his face flush with stark embarrassment, but it drained far too quickly, leaving his head spinning and his balance a bit wobbly. He ignored the look of mild concern on Mycroft’s face as his chest puffed up with indignation, but he charitably let the anger go with a slight shake of his head, his pent-up breath hissing through his teeth. “Yeah, well... Nora was always _very_ good at looking after herself. It wasn’t difficult to believe her when she told me that she always used protection with her... Side-dishes.” He flashed a rueful grin at Mycroft as his lips turned down into a sympathetic moue. “Small mercies, I suppose.”

“And yet, despite that somewhat dubious assurance, you still get tested regularly.”

Greg shrugged. “I see no harm in being informed of one’s sexual health.”

“Even when one is not particularly active in that regard?” Mycroft swiftly held out a hand in a placating gesture as Greg’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “I do apologise. It is of course none of my business. I simply wished to impress upon you that I know - quite definitively - that you have a clean bill of health.” He let his eyes wander from top to toe and back again, a tinge of pink blooming high on his cheeks as he licked his lips. “And it is also quite clear that you are - ahem - _fit_ for active duty, Detective Inspector.”

“Little shit.”

Mycroft showed his teeth in a quick flash of mirth as Greg subconsciously took a small step closer. His eyes hardened as the Detective Inspector continued to dither, his fingers once again clutching at his denim-clad thighs. “If I may make one more argument before you decide upon your final ruling?” Mycroft squirmed slightly as Greg narrowed his eyes and nodded curtly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know that you believe me to be a remarkably selfish individual, and that you are equally as sure that I place no higher value on anyone’s life than on my own.” Mycroft gestured expansively as he tilted his head. “We are all alone here, Detective Inspector. And in the particular scenario that I am proposing, I would be assuming the greater risk of infection as the receiving partner, would I not?”

Greg licked his lips as he nodded again, his stiff posture easing somewhat. “True...”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sighhhh, all this talking... They'll get down and dirty - I promise!
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies - please comment! :-)

“So. Knowing me as you think you do, as a cold-hearted selfish rat-bastard, do you honestly believe that I would place not only my body - but also my very life - into the wrong hands? That I would take such an enormous risk for a brief if potentially extremely satisfying sexual encounter?” Mycroft’s cool demeanour faltered momentarily as a flash of something fierce and utterly hungry passed over the Detective Inspector’s face.

He fidgeted again as there was another small step closer, as Greg’s eyes darkened and almost seemed to grow in his face. “You aren’t selfish.”

Mycroft blinked slowly, his head tilting inquisitively. “Am I not?”

“No.” Greg took that final step, reaching out to cup Mycroft’s jaw, running his thumb up one high cheekbone. He hummed low as Mycroft leant into his touch, his eyelashes fluttering in quiet bliss. “You forget all the times I saw you at Sherlock’s side in hospital. But then, maybe you didn’t even notice I was there - you were always so focused on your brother.” Mycroft shuddered as Greg traced over his lower lip with the lightest of touches. “I’ve _seen_ you, Mycroft, and I know you better than you think. I know that every single thing that you have ever done in your life was for the sake of your daft baby brother. You are probably the least selfish man that I’ve ever known." He tilted his head in contemplation. "In fact, I think that if it came down to the wire, you would actually let London fall before allowing any harm to come to Sherlock.”

Mycroft huffed quietly, his eyes rolling sardonically. “Don’t be absurd. I’m just a minor govern-”

“-mental official.” Greg chuckled low at the icy glare being directed at him as he completed Mycroft’s usual ludicrous protestation. “Yeah. Right.”

“Besides which, even if all of that is true - which it _isn’t_ , how preposterous - that doesn’t preclude my own selfishness. I look after Sherlock because if anything happened to him, I would simply perish. So you see, protecting him is an act of self-preservation as much as anything else.”

“That’s a rather roundabout way of justifying your actions, but I take your point.” Greg bit his lip as Mycroft looked up at him coquettishly, fluttering his eyelashes in a ridiculously endearing manner. “You may consider your argument made and accepted. However...” He paused as cool grey eyes lit up with excitement, the pupils dilating exponentially. Greg cleared his throat and delivered a stern look as Mycroft’s fingers went for his belt, smirking internally as he blanched slightly and subsided, fiddling with the edges of the bow instead. “Better. If this is going to happen, then there’s something else you need to understand.” Mycroft nodded, squirming in his seat as his eyes bounced from Greg’s face down to his groin and up again. “While you were being an impertinent and interfering arsehole by snooping about in my records and making _my_ business _yours_ , did you perhaps wonder why I haven’t been all that - ahem - active lately?”

“There was no wondering necessary. It was obvious to me that you simply hadn’t found an appropriate partner - not that you’ve really had time to devote to a proper search since your marriage dissolved.” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed keenly. “You are not the only one that perhaps knows more than previously believed by the other party.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop! Maybe Mycroft is getting a little more than he bargained for here...
> 
> *muah! muahmuahmuah!*
> 
> (Please comment!)

Greg's lips pulled down in a confused moue. “Say wha?”

Mycroft’s eyes rolled even as his lips quirked in amusement. “I believe that you’re demisexual - only able to perform with those that you feel a particular connection with. You don’t do _casual_ , Detective Inspector. You aren’t even capable of it.”

Greg took in a deep breath from his nose, nodding slightly as he ran his fingers from Mycroft’s jaw to the back of his neck and up into his hair. Mycroft shuddered pleasantly and went up on his knees, sliding his arms around Greg’s waist and pulling him in closer. “Well, I wouldn’t say that I’m not entirely _capable_ \- I do have my ways. But if I want it to be a mutually pleasurable experience, then yeah - I have to know the person well, and of course I have to fancy them to a certain degree.” He scratched at Mycroft’s scalp gently. “So are you prepared for what you might be starting here?”

Mycroft shivered pleasantly as his skin tingled with every touch. “I am willing - more than, really - to see where it might lead, yes.”

Greg smirked at him, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “If nothing else, it will be a wonderful opportunity to drive your little brother a bit barmy, eh?”

The atmosphere between them lightened as they both giggled briefly, with Mycroft burying his face in the soft jumper covering Greg’s midriff and wriggling his bare sternum against the hardness that was still frustratingly hidden away from him. “Hmm - how lucky for me that I seem to be one of the few that qualify under your exacting standards.” He let out his breath on a nearly silent sigh as he looked up, once again fluttering his eyelashes beguilingly. “Detective Inspector...”

Mycroft gasped as the gentle fingers in his hair suddenly turned fierce, twisting and twining and holding tight. He moaned as his head was yanked back, his own fingers scrabbling for a hold on anything at all as Greg leant down and put their noses together. “No titles. Not anymore. If you want this, then you want _me_.” He gave Mycroft a swift shake, one corner of his mouth turning up almost cruelly. “Say my name, you little tart.”

“Gre- _Gregory_.”

“Oh _yes_...” The kiss that was suddenly enveloping Mycroft’s mouth absolutely made him go weak, his arms falling away from Gregory’s waist as his thighs turned to jelly, his neck loosening and making his head wobbly on his shoulders. Indeed, it was only Gregory’s hold on him that kept him upright at all, fighting to suck in air through his nose as he opened himself up for a very thorough exploration. Mycroft reeled as he was pulled away from the bliss of Gregory’s mouth, from the nimble wickedness of his unfairly skilled tongue. His arms flailed briefly as he fought to regain his balance, the loss of harsh fingers in his hair just as disorienting as the loss of wet warmth at his lips. Mycroft blinked dazedly as there was a soft chuckle from somewhere nearby, as a reverent thumb wiped the excess spittle from his chin. “Oh yes indeed. As you were, then.” Gregory’s face slowly came back into focus in the flickering of the fairy-lights, his expression open and pleasantly eager. He patted Mycroft’s cheek gently. “Assume the position, m’lad.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg finally gives in!
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies!
> 
> (Please comment, I adore all of your words!)

Moving somewhat sluggishly, his brain and body still preoccupied with that damn kiss, Mycroft wondered if he truly was prepared for what was to come as he shifted back onto his knees, grasping at the chaise for support as he dipped his spine. Any doubt vanished as the utterly divine sounds of a belt buckle clinking open and a zip slowly being drawn down filtered into Mycroft’s consciousness, snapping him right back to his original purpose. He shivered with delight as Gregory pressed up against him, his exposed prick thick, hard and oh-so-hot on his chilled flesh. Mycroft moaned quietly as he felt blunt nails dragging down either side of his spine, his face positively burning as stark need tugged at his bollocks.

“Gregory - _p-please..._ ”

“Mm, oh there we are...” There was no more hesitation as sure fingers went for the plug between his cheeks, and Mycroft obligingly bore down as Gregory twisted and pulled steadily, easily drawing it free. Mycroft sighed with relief but whimpered as his sphincter spasmed around nothing at all, wiggling his behind imperiously. Gregory huffed quietly, his fingers spread wide over his cheeks, his thumbs holding him open and exposed. “Demanding little hussy, aren’t ya? And why oh why am I not at all surprised?”

“Gregory!”

“Yeah, yeah - keep yer hair on.” Mycroft pressed his forehead into his outstretched arms at the click of the lid on the bottle of lube, holding his breath to better hear the slick sounds of it being spread liberally over hard flesh. He tensed briefly as he felt the first tentative probe of Gregory’s cockhead at his entrance, nice and fat, soft and supple. But then at last he started to push, moving slowly but inexorably forward until he was fully sheathed, and oh, that wonderful silken slide, that lovely stretch and burn - _ngh_.

Mycroft shivered as Gregory came to a stop, grinding his hips into his arse almost languidly. He hummed low as he laid his body down, draping himself over Mycroft’s trembling back. He gave out another stark shudder as he felt the soft material of Gregory’s jumper brush against his skin, realising that the almost sharp bite of metal pressing against his arse-cheeks was that of his zip. Mycroft bit back on a low moan, cursing himself for not having the foresight to bring a mirror, or indeed, for not setting up a camera to witness his debauchment at the hands of this wicked if truly _delightful_ man.

“Couldn’t wait to shuck anything off.” As if reading his thoughts, Gregory’s voice caressed his ear, his breath brushing over Mycroft’s neck and making his entire body erupt into gooseflesh. “Knew that this pert little arse of yours would feel so amazing on my cock. So hot and tight...” He wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him close and pulling out only a scant inch before pushing forward hard. “ _Ngh_ , oh fuck... When was the last time you even had anything that wasn’t metal or silicone stuffed up here?”

Mycroft shuddered as warm fingers brushed at his puckered nipples, as Gregory began to worry at shoulder and neck and ear with his fine, strong teeth. “F-far too long. And it wasn’t anything l-like _this_ , ohh...”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tra la laaaaa! I did remember to tag 'teasing', yes? Yes!
> 
> Greg is a horror.
> 
> *muahhh!*
> 
> (Please continue to comment - you all keep me going!)

Greg clucked his tongue as he delivered another small jolt, striving to maintain his control, as it had been rather a long time since anyone had so willingly bent over for him, and this arse was truly a divine little thing. “Those annoying condoms again, hm?”

Mycroft hummed in vague acknowledgment, pressing back into another small thrust. God, it was wonderful that it seemed as though Gregory intended to enjoy the use of his body for as long as possible, but Mycroft thought he may just go mad if he held off on truly fucking him for much longer. He stiffened abruptly as an intrusive hand slipped down below, delivering a rather perfunctory squeeze before stroking him with a leisurely grip.

Greg laughed at the strangled noise that echoed through the vast space, reveling in the quivering of the muscles wrapped snug around his cock as Mycroft’s bollocks pulled up nice and tight. “Oh, already that far gone, are you?”

Mycroft mumbled something into his arm, rolling his eyes and repeating it as Gregory tugged on his hair, pulling his head back and demanding a response without saying a word. “I have been - anticipating - this for quite some time and of course I meant to relieve any lingering tension beforehand, b-but events transpired - _nghohfuck_.”

“Dirty little thing.” Greg hummed merrily as he dug about in the basket, pulling out the cock-strap with a tiny flourish. “At least you brought along this little beauty to assist with that...”

Mycroft grumbled again, but he did not object as the cock-strap was wrapped snug around his bits and snapped securely in place. In truth, it hardly mattered, as he was used to prolonging his own release. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of fullness that nothing but a nice, fat cock could provide, the pulling and pushing deep within as he was used for another’s pleasure - for _Gregory’s_ pleasure. He moaned low as his arse was subjected to another slow grind, deep and languid and almost unbearable in its perfection.

That is, if Gregory were to even put him to his proper purpose...

Greg continued to play with Mycroft’s prick, idly running his fingers up and down and around, slipping through the pre-come that was steadily dripping from the head, rubbing and caressing the silky-smooth flesh. Mycroft groaned aloud as those devilish fingers were removed, as Greg lifted them to his mouth and sucked on them greedily. He shuddered hard as the taste bloomed over his tongue, salty-bitter-sweet and oh so delicious. _God, yes._

Mycroft hissed quietly as Gregory withdrew in a long, sleek glide, anticipating that now the fucking would truly begin, but he just pushed forward with another maddeningly slow thrust, carefully feeling his way around deep inside. Greg grinned as he laid his torso down again, unable to resist the long, elegant curve of Mycroft’s neck. He nibbled gently as he began to pump into his body somewhat steadily, his motions short and smooth and oh-so-slow.

Mycroft let out a sound that was very like a sob of frustration, but Greg felt his jaw clench with determination as he brushed his lips up against it. Oh no, but that simply would not do... As much as he wanted to let go, to use this magnificent body in the way that Mycroft clearly intended him to, he would need to learn to beg first, just like the needy little whore that he so obviously wanted to be used as.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand here are some of those damn feels...
> 
> Kisses!
> 
> (Please comment!)

Greg hummed low in his chest and let a soft gust of breath brush over the shell of Mycroft’s ear, deliberately putting a little bit more gravel in his voice. “Why, Mycroft?” Greg nosed at his cheek, dragging his teeth along his jawline. “Why this, why now?” He blinked and wrapped his arms around Mycroft’s torso, holding him tight for just a moment before moving again. “Why me?”

Mycroft shook his head and tried to sound disaffected as he shrugged awkwardly. “Why not?”

Greg clucked his tongue and pressed in deep. “Mycroft.”

 _“Hngk.”_ Mycroft shook his head again, fighting off the corresponding giggles as Gregory chuckled quietly behind him. “Why _this_ \- I honestly do not know. I was in a whimsical frame of mind when the thought occurred to me, and I was unable to banish the idea, as ridiculous as it was.”

Greg delivered a nice, long thrust to reward Mycroft for his answer. “Perhaps it is a little ridiculous, but it’s also rather sweet. I like whimsical.”

“That thought had also occurred to me, which is perhaps why the idea persisted.” Mycroft glanced over his shoulder, his eyes wide and just a little frantic around the edges. “I wanted to please you, Gregory.”

Another long, deep thrust, this time with a little force behind it. Greg showed his teeth as Mycroft’s eyes rolled back briefly. “You wanted to ensnare me.”

“Per-perhaps...” Mycroft jumped slightly as there was a stinging slap on his behind, biting his lip as he moaned quietly. He blushed at the knowing grin that was aimed in his direction, taking in a breath as Gregory nodded for him to continue. “As for why now - well, that should be fairly obvious. We both had certain familial - obstructions - that would prevent such a venture from being successful. And now... Well, you are a free man, and my own annoying responsibility, which I am not naming for obvious reasons, has been passed on to another, so I find myself free as well. The time was finally right.”

This time, Greg thrust twice, nice and hard and deep, clutching tightly to Mycroft’s hips to keep himself grounded. “And me? W-why _me_ , Mycroft?”

Mycroft made a sort of gurgling noise low in his throat, shaking his head desperately. “You. How could it not be you? It’s been you since the beginning of your association with you-know-who.” Mycroft groaned at the tickling sensation of fingers in his hair, trailing up and down his spine and along his shoulders. “You... You make it all go away, Gregory. The stress, the anxiety, the noise in my head - it all goes away when I think of you. The thought of you is a comfort to me during troubled times, and you help me to focus. I cannot tell you how many times I have thought of you and been forced to take myself in hand, nor how many times I have come with your name on my lips.”

“Jesus, Mycroft...”   

Mycroft took in a deep breath at the sound of wonder in Gregory’s voice, his belly wobbling uncertainly as he gave in to his baser impulses. “Please, Gregory, oh _please._ I have done this all for you, I have donned this silly bow just for you - I am giving myself _to_ _you_. Please use me, oh God _please_.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft finally gets his just rewards... In one sense, anyway.
> 
> Hee! Hope everyone is having a lovely holiday - next posting will see me over 1M words! Yipe!
> 
> Kisses, and please do comment!

Greg yanked back on Mycroft’s hair and pressed a fierce if awkward kiss to his slack lips, snarling under his breath and nodding eagerly. “Yes, oh yes. I’m gonna fuck your brains out.”

Mycroft mewled happily, his face lighting up with joy. “God, yes, please!”

He let out a gasp of shock and disappointment as he was released, as Gregory’s cock was withdrawn completely. Mycroft subsided at a warning touch between his shoulder-blades, keeping his head down and renewing his grip on the back of the chaise. His spirits were immediately lifted as he heard Gregory fumbling with the lube, nodding his understanding - the prolonged teasing had made it go a bit sticky in there, after all. It wasn’t long before he was being filled again, Gregory’s cock hot and slick and oh-so-hard within him, and he shivered at the sensation of broad fingers wrapping firmly around his hips.

And then all thought fled as he was assaulted in the manner he had been hoping for, as his body was jolted mercilessly with each of Gregory’s fierce thrusts. Mycroft fought to keep his teeth clenched as he snorted breath through his nose, striving to preserve the sanctity of his tongue. He let out an unseemly squeal as the head of Gregory’s prick knocked against his prostate, his own bound cock jumping futilely at the sensation.

Greg huffed out a harsh breath as he did it again, some instinctive beast within him grinning fiercely as the sound was repeated, as the body he was clutching so tightly trembled around him. Again and again he struck at that one spot, until Mycroft threw back his head and let out an anguished wail. Greg swiftly took advantage, reaching out to take firm hold of Mycroft’s hair, wrenching his body upright as he continued to fuck up into him, his bollocks pulling up tight as that divine heat began to gather and swirl in his belly.

“My precious little Christmas pressie...” Greg growled low as Mycroft whimpered, trying to nod but completely unable to move. “You want it, don’t you? Want to feel me deep inside you, want me to mark you all up...”

Mycroft opened his eyes and cast them sideways, huffing out laboured breaths. “Yes, Gregory, oh yes. Come for me. Oh, please - come _inside_ me.”

As if triggered by his words, Greg started to come, still thrusting hard as his body was overwhelmed with heat and pure bliss. The fingertips of his right hand started to tingle as he held tight to Mycroft’s hair, reaching around with his left arm to encircle his chest and holding him close as Greg pushed up on his toes, grunting and groaning and pouring everything that he had into him.

Mycroft moaned low and long, his tongue quivering in his mouth as he felt the swift jets pulsing deep inside, so hot and delicious. His - oh God yes - _his_. Gregory had marked him just as he had dreamt of for so long - Mycroft had staked his own claim by willingly taking a piece of this fine man into his body and now he finally belonged to him, to Gregory Lestrade.

Mycroft almost sobbed as it was confirmed, as Gregory nosed behind his ear and nuzzled at his neck, growling low. “Mine. All mine, now.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it - this is the one that's going to push me over a million. I'm plotzing here. Eee!
> 
> Anyhow - the evening isn't over just yet - our lovely lads are still a bit frisky! Hee!
> 
> Please read, please comment - I am so privileged to have found such an accepting community for my dirty nonsense, and I truly adore you all. ***MMMMMUAHHHH***

They panted together as brains regained equilibrium, as vision cleared and as their bodies slowly came back under rather dubious control. Mycroft wriggled pleasantly against the cashmere that was pressed to his back, biting his lip as Gregory caressed him idly. He ran the fingers of one hand up and down Gregory’s arm before taking it gently and leading it downwards in a hopeful but what he knew would ultimately be a rather futile gesture. A swift thrill of delight washed down his spine as there was a soft if somewhat evil chuckle in his ear. 

“Oh, no. Not yet. I’m not done with you, lovely.”

“Gregory!” Mycroft gasped as Gregory abruptly withdrew from his body, leaving him feeling hollow and empty and quite unsatisfied. He grunted in surprise as he felt the cold metal of the plug at his entrance, his body accepting it with very little resistance, never mind his brain’s reluctance. He huffed with impatience as he was carefully wiped clean, or at least as clean as one could get under the circumstances.

“Here.” Mycroft shuffled backwards as Gregory carefully tugged at him, wiggling his toes against the cool concrete floor as he stood. He grunted quietly as his knees creaked, raising his arms over his head as he gave in to the impulse to stretch. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. We’ll give those knees of yours a little rest before the next round.”

Mycroft blinked disbelievingly. “Next round?” He gestured vaguely at the spent if still delightfully thick prick hanging from Gregory’s zip, blushing slightly as he imagined how it might feel against his tongue. Later, though - much, much later. “Gregory, you’re hardly in any state to...”

“Won’t take long.” Greg finally slipped his jumper over his head, casting it aside before working on the buttons of his shirt, awkwardly toeing off his shoes at the same time. “You’re not the only one who had to take matters into his own hands from time to time when certain thoughts popped up.”

Mycroft blinked again, his fingers twitching to reach out and tangle in the luscious salt-and-pepper chest hair that was slowly being revealed. “Me? You... You - thought of me?” He gave in to his impulses as Gregory moved closer, sliding his hands through the gap in his shirt and up over his shoulders, carelessly knocking it to the floor. Gregory grunted quietly as Mycroft dragged his manicured nails through his chest hair, flicking idly at dusky nipples along the way.

Greg impatiently shoved his jeans and pants down over his hips, wiggling saucily to get them to slide down. He stepped out of them as he moved closer, pressing their torsos together and wrinkling his nose as he tried to avoid crushing Mycroft’s barely-there wrapper. “Oh yes. Every time I saw you at one of my crime scenes, arguing with Sherlock.” He cupped Mycroft’s face and brought him in for a sweet kiss. “I would imagine just what it might take to wipe that haughty look off your face.” Greg smiled broadly as Mycroft rolled his eyes. “I'd find myself terribly distracted coming up with all kinds of scenarios - and now I know exactly what it takes.”

Mycroft smirked. “Yes - a healthy, vigorous shag is usually sufficient.” His eyes glinted with amusement and just a hint of desperation as the smirk dropped into a pout. “Although if you really want to see me at my least Holmesian, you’ll get me _off_ , you horrible man.”

“Oh, I will - eventually. But you’re my toy tonight, and I still have a bit of play left in me.” Greg stepped back and frowned down at the bow, which had been smushed a bit, but was still firmly in his way. “And I haven’t even unwrapped you properly yet...”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hee hee heeeee...
> 
> More Christmas smut, which will probably keep going into the new year. Not that I think anyone will complain...
> 
> :-) Kisses, all - please comment!

Mycroft rolled his eyes as the bow was subjected to a careful inspection, Gregory’s thick fingers rustling through the satin curves to find the ends of the ribbon. “I could just slip it off, you know.” Mycroft started to wiggle it down over his hips, but stopped as a curt look was thrown in his direction, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Better. I have plans for this thing.” Gregory hummed as he turned his attention to the problem again, ignoring the starkly red hue of Mycroft’s cheeks. He let out a pleased exclamation as he found the ends, tugging them firmly in opposite directions and giggling quietly as the whole thing fell apart in his hands, exposing the entirety of the British Government to his hot, greedy gaze.

Mycroft blushed again as he felt his bound cock jump, an almost steady stream of pre-ejaculate oozing from the slit and down his shaft. He fought the urge to cover himself, as Gregory clearly wanted the opportunity to ogle him properly. Even though Mycroft had never been the most self-assured individual when it came to his physical attractiveness or perceived lack thereof, there was something deeply appreciative in Gregory’s eyes, and he found himself subconsciously preening a bit, subtly angling his torso this way and that in the glow of the fairy-lights.

He obeyed the wordless command to spin in place, Gregory’s meaty forefinger directing him imperiously. Holding his arms out slightly to the side, Mycroft slowly rotated, making sure to cant his hips from side to side as he turned, showcasing his bottom in the best possible light. But when he turned back around, it was to find Gregory’s dark, earnest gaze fixed on his face, a gentle smile gracing his lips. Mycroft blinked in astonishment as his eyes caught the movement of Gregory’s cock twitching heartily, already nice and fat and clearly rallying itself for a second go. 

“Gregory...”

Greg grinned wickedly. “Told ya.” He went to Mycroft and folded him in his arms, still holding the ends of the red ribbon draped in his fingers. 

Mycroft sighed as he was kissed, softly and sweetly and far too leisurely for his liking as his cock throbbed unhappily, pressed up against Gregory’s groin. He reached around to grab hot fistfuls of a truly glorious arse, grinding up against him ruthlessly. “Gregory.” 

His name was spoken as a demand, but one that was easily overridden by another knowing grin. “In my time, you little tart.” 

Mycroft groaned melodramatically, but he also conceded by backing away slightly, because he knew that was the only way he was going to get what he wanted - what he so desperately  _ needed _ to assuage the deepening ache in his bollocks.

“Good Goddamn, but I wish that I had known you were such an eager little bottom years ago.” Mycroft rolled his eyes, but leant in closer as he was beckoned, parting his lips as Gregory nipped at them sharply. “So obedient.”

“For you...” Mycroft reached up to run his fingers through Gregory’s hair and down his neck. “Oh, only for you.”

Greg stepped back, one corner of his mouth quirking up as he ran the satin ribbon through his fingers. “Let’s just put that to the test, shall we?”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. Hehehe...
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies - please do comment!

Mycroft met his eyes with a challenging tilt to his brow, but held his arms out in front of him, his chest hitching slightly in anticipation. He bit his lip as Gregory shook his head, rolling his shoulders as he slipped them around his back instead, clasping tight to his left wrist. Mycroft’s head dropped forward as Gregory stepped silently around him, unable to hold back on the involuntary if all too predictable twisting of his spine. He let out the barest whisper of an, _“Oh,”_ as the satin ribbon was slipped around his arms above the elbow.

Greg swallowed as he drew it snug but not overly tight, his cock jumping again as Mycroft’s posture straightened, his shoulders pulling back and creating a lovely profile as his chest was thrown forward. “Alright?” He bit his lip as there was a nod and a vague hum in response, Mycroft’s fingers flexing as he renewed his grip on his wrist.

Knowing that this was hardly the best material for this purpose and wary of potentially cutting off blood flow, Greg simply wrapped the ribbon around a couple of times before winding the ends down Mycroft’s arms, finishing it off with a generic quick-release knot around his wrists. He took a moment to admire the beauty of the image that he had created, red satin wound lovingly around pale, creamy skin, Mycroft’s freckles standing out as a rosy blush worked its way down his neck and across his shoulders.  

“Oh, but you are a vision...”

Mycroft trembled as Gregory paced around him in a slow circle, his movements fluid with grace and power, rather like a predator stalking his unwary prey. He could already feel his mind drifting into a pleasant sort of daze, disconnecting from his body and all of its insignificant little aches. He no longer felt the chill in the air or the unforgiving concrete under his feet, nor the twinges in his fiddly knees and elbows. There was only Gregory, standing before him with his hungry eyes and all-too-knowing smile.

“Oh dear - is that really all that it takes to send you down?” Greg reached up to curl Mycroft’s forelock around his finger, giving it a gentle tug. “I would have thought there would be arguments and threats and quite a bit of thrashing before you would go all buzzy on me.”

Mycroft bit his lip as he lifted his gaze with some difficulty, his eyelids feeling rather like stone weights were holding them down. He swayed slightly on the spot, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady pattern. He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a thin whine as his air left him.

Greg blinked rapidly, his face brightening with delight. “Oh my God, you go nonverbal when you’re tied, don’t you? Oh, happy fucking Christmas to me!” He did a little shuffling dance on the spot, his stiff prick bouncing merrily along for the ride.

Greg stopped as Mycroft’s eyebrows drew together in consternation, stepping forward and cradling his face in both hands, bringing their eyes level. He dropped his voice, all joviality disappearing in an instant, his dark eyes fiercely earnest. “You are remarkable, and I am so unbelievably honoured that you’ve entrusted me with this. We obviously have much to discuss before anything like this happens again, but for now, I want you to blink once for yes and twice for no, yeah?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, what wouldn't we all do with the British Government all tongue-tied and at our mercy?
> 
> *muah*!
> 
> Please do comment, my lovelies - I adore all of you!

Mycroft took in a deep breath and closed his eyes for a slow count of two before opening them again. Greg rewarded him for his obedience with a soft kiss, his thumbs tracing up his cheekbones. “Very good.” He ran his hands down, flicking gently at Mycroft’s nipples. “Okay to play with these?” One blink, and Greg grinned as he pinched and pulled. “And is it okay if I get a bit rough?” Mycroft swayed as he shuddered hard, and Greg gave him a little time to get himself re-situated before lifting his face again, waiting for that simple signal. 

The single blink was accompanied by a puckering of Mycroft’s lips, a silent  _ ‘please’ _ that nearly made Greg’s head spin. With a happy little growl, he pulled harder and twisted, watching eagerly as the pink flesh went white from the pressure of his fingers. Mycroft’s head rolled back as he released him, another of those barely-there whines pushing from between his lips as the blood rushed back into his abused nipples. 

Greg licked his lips as he spied a bit of a bruise already forming around the right areola. “What a delicate creature you are, Mr. Holmes.” 

_ “Nghk.” _

Greg laughed quietly as Mycroft shivered, once again ensuring that he could see his face clearly being going any further. “Marks?” Mycroft frowned slightly, and Greg quickly appended his query, making the obvious concession. “Nothing visible above the collar, of course.” Mycroft nodded wildly, his errant curl bouncing high on his forehead. Greg clucked his tongue as he tilted his head, affecting a stern glare and wagging his finger chidingly. “Ah-ah... That’s not the signal we agreed on, pet.” 

He grinned sharply as Mycroft whined, watching with a certain amount of glee as he took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he let it out on a count of three before opening them again. The desperate gleam flickering in the hazy grey depths made an absolute rush of heat burst low in Greg’s belly, and he surged forward without delay. He sank his teeth into the meat of Mycroft’s right pectoral, grazing at the edges of the faint bruise that he had already bestowed. Greg bit down hard and sucked even harder, clutching at Mycroft’s arse, holding him upright as he dug his fingernails in deep.

He staggered as Mycroft’s knees wobbled, a low whimpering moan echoing through his chest. Greg drew back, keeping firm hold as he surveyed the minor damage that he had wrought, a lovely red mark that was already purpling at the edges. “Such a lovely, pristine canvas for me to defile.” He glanced up as he showed his teeth, chuckling softly as Mycroft’s cheeks blazed beetroot red. “But I’ve just got you, and it wouldn’t do to break my new toy the first night I get it, now would it?” 

Two slow blinks were his answer, and Greg sighed happily as he tucked his body in close to Mycroft’s, letting his fingers wander a bit further inward over the firm globes of his arse, tapping idly at the base of the plug. Mycroft grunted softly as strong teeth nibbled at his collarbone, as nimble lips and tongue worked at the long column of his neck. True to his word, Greg didn’t suck hard enough to leave a mark, simply running his nose over creamy skin and breathing in the faint aroma of Mycroft’s cologne combined with the sharp saltiness of his sweat.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do hope everyone had a lovely New Year's...
> 
> Please do comment if you would like, I know there's not much here, but...

Greg hummed low as he shifted his hold, the fingers of his right hand still tap-tap-tapping at the base of the plug as he ran his left up and down Mycroft’s torso, mapping out the soft roundness of his belly and tickling through a pleasant if somewhat surprising bounty of chest hair. He pushed his nose into the underside of Mycroft’s chin as he let his hand wander a bit further downward, licking at his Adam’s apple and setting his teeth into the vulnerable flesh ever so lightly. Greg laughed quietly as he felt it bob against his tongue, drawing back to look his poor victim in the eye as he began to stroke Mycroft’s aching cock with the gentlest of touches.

“You’ve been so good for me, pet. I think you deserve a little treat.” He twisted his wrist as he came to the head of Mycroft’s prick, the pre-come streaming out so abundantly that it threatened to slip right out of Greg’s grip. “Whaddya say?” Greg affected an astonished look as Mycroft’s eyelids blinked twice in rapid succession. “No? You don’t want to get off?” Mycroft bit his lip and blinked twice again, with more deliberation this time. “Ah. So you do want to come, just not like this.” Greg continued to stroke him, lowering his eyes to watch as the darkly-flushed head popped in and out of his tightened fist. With an evil smirk, he pumped hard and fast until Mycroft let out a moan of true anguish, the cords in his neck standing out in stark relief as he threw his head back.

Greg squeezed harder for just a moment, listening to the breath hissing in and out between Mycroft’s clenched teeth, his eyes fluttering against the pulse of air against his face. “Oh, but you poor thing...” He let Mycroft’s cock slip from his fist, raising his hand and studying it in the flickering of the fairy lights. With an eager slurp, Greg greedily sucked his besmirched fingers deep into his mouth, laving his tongue between the digits with heady delight. He lifted an eyebrow as Mycroft’s eyes went wide, and Greg felt the corners of his lips turning up despite his strongest attempt to keep his expression neutral.

“Is that it, then? My mouth? I would so _love_ to take a proper taste, after all.” Greg nibbled lightly on the tips of his own fingers as Mycroft started to shake his head, remembering himself at the last moment and blinking twice instead. Greg pouted slightly before perking up again, reaching up to run his spit-slicked fingers over Mycroft’s bottom lip. “Another time, then.” He grinned as Mycroft’s tongue darted out to flicker over the edges of his nails, an almost subconscious reaction, judging by the haziness of his normally cool, clear grey eyes. Greg tilted his head as he slipped them in deeper, pressing his body in close as he began to twist and push at the plug still buried between Mycroft’s arse-cheeks. “However am I to satisfy you, Mr. Holmes?”

Mycroft continued to suck on Greg’s fingers, his tongue languid against his skin as he worked at him. With only a slight shifting of his body, a subtle tilt of his hips, he rubbed against the erection pressed firmly into the cradle of his groin. Mycroft stretched as Greg groaned, rolling and twisting, grinding against both cock and hand, wordlessly making his wishes known beyond a shadow of a doubt.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg is a lucky, lucky bastard.
> 
> *muah*! 
> 
> Please do comment - adore you all! :-)

“Oh, but you are a saucy little tart, aren’t you?” Greg tried to still the motion of his own hips as he rubbed against Mycroft’s all too willing body, his hands roaming indiscriminately as there was a low hum of agreement in his ear. “Want me to fill you up again, is that it? Want to come with my cock buried deep inside you, oh Lord...” His groping came to an abrupt stop as a thought struck him, stepping away to meet Mycroft’s eyes. “Can you climax that way - without being touched? With nothing but my fat cock to bounce on until you spray like a geyser?”

Greg watched an almost seismic tremor work its way from Mycroft’s toes all the way to the top of his head, and his hands went out to steady him until he recovered the strength enough to respond with one firm blink. With another quick jig and a merry jingle of his balls, his own excitement absolutely impossible to contain, Greg turned away and plopped his bum right down on the chaise, reaching for the basket of supplies. He giggled faintly as he gestured Mycroft closer with the bottle of lube.

“I cannot believe my luck, good fucking God. I have  _ always _ wanted to see that up close and personal-like. Get your tight little arse over here.”

Mycroft shuffled just a bit closer, a low susurrus of sound rolling from his parted lips, something slightly hesitant but needy all the same. Greg tilted his head as he looked up, narrowing his eyes as Mycroft very deliberately ogled his florid cock with a hopeful air, licking his lips suggestively. 

Greg sank back against the cushions, shaking his head in disbelief. “Nonverbal,  _ and _ orally fixated. Holy hell.” He stroked himself idly with two fingers as Mycroft stared, an actual dribble of saliva beginning to wend its way from one corner of his mouth. Greg paused only long enough to gather up his discarded clothing, folding it up into a neat bundle and tossing it down on the floor between his feet. “Yeah, alright. C’mere.”

Mycroft bent at the waist, sniffing delicately and groaning quietly as Greg stretched and pushed his hips up, the tip of his cock glancing off of his chin. His knees buckled, but rather than try to keep himself upright, he simply followed the impulses of his body, folding his legs and kneeling with an easy, practised grace between Greg’s spread thighs. 

Greg took his chin in his fingers, swiping his thumb through the pre-come that had been left behind, tugging gently on Mycroft’s bottom lip. “You go right ahead and have your bit of fun, but don’t get carried away if you still want a nice ride.” He grinned crookedly and winked as Mycroft took in shallow, huffing breaths, his eyes hooded with desire. “Won’t be as easy for me to get it up a third time tonight.” 

Mycroft licked his lips again as he strained forward against Greg’s hold, blinking once.  _ ‘Yes, I understand.’  _ He looked up from under his lashes and pursed his lips, blowing out a faint stream of air along with another needy whine. Greg sucked in a sharp breath as his cock jerked hard, giving himself a quick squeeze to lessen some of the pressure building in his bollocks before settling back.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly recovering, and my brain is coming back online. I really hope I have some time to write this weekend and get further along in this story. It'll be St. Patty's Day before I'm done with it!
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies - please do comment!

Mycroft began by not doing much at all, really. He shuffled a bit closer, wedging his torso in between Greg’s thighs and then he leant forward until just the tip of his nose brushed ever so slightly at the base of his cock. Greg looked down at the back of Mycroft’s head, feeling the softest brushes of his breath washing over his bits in a mesmerising pattern. 

He was overcome by the strangest notion that there was more than mere submission in Mycroft’s posture, something more like prostration, almost as if he were seeking penitence. Greg wasn’t entirely sure that he had any to offer, but laying one hand on the top of his supplicant’s head did feel oddly like a benediction. Mycroft seemed to accept this, a soft sigh passing through his lips as he shifted, laying his cheek against Greg’s inner thigh. He suppressed the wild impulse to make the sign of the cross, to perhaps whisper something along the lines of,  _ “Go in peace, my son.” _

Instead, Greg simply let Mycroft have his moment, running his fingers through his soft auburn hair, lightly caressing the back of his neck. With a tiny hum of gratitude, Mycroft dragged his nose up the underside of Greg’s cock, laying a soft kiss on the frenulum. He shivered with absolute delight as his lovely new toy began to nuzzle with lips and tongue, as Mycroft lapped at the pre-come dribbling out, rubbing his cheeks and chin in it as though marking himself with Greg’s scent. 

When Mycroft lifted his face, his grey eyes full of reverence, Greg actually felt his heart still in his chest for one long, agonising moment. And when those thin if wonderfully soft lips closed around the very tip of his cock, he took in a sharp breath that abruptly restarted it with a hard, almost painful jolt. As Mycroft began to suck oh so gently, his tongue flickering underneath the foreskin, Greg knew beyond a shadow of a doubt how very gone he already was for this impossible man.

Mycroft must have seen something in his face, his eyes betraying him, or perhaps something in the hitch of the breath in his chest. He opened his mouth and let Greg’s cock slide out, a thin string of saliva bridging the gap between them. He cleared his throat against the odd croak that was threatening to emerge, shoving it down until it became a low purr that rattled through his chest. 

Mycroft blinked against an unbecoming welter of tears as Greg ran his thumb over his lips, as he nodded his understanding. “Yes. Anything for you.” Mycroft ducked his chin to hide his face, absentmindedly sucking the broad digit into his mouth and sucking at it languidly. Greg once again let him take whatever time he needed to gather himself, until those grey eyes were suddenly fixated on his cock with an almost unnerving intensity. 

“Up you get, then.” Mycroft blinked languidly and pursed his lips into a little pout, ducking his head to bestow one more gentle suck before leaning back and gaining his feet with as much easy grace as he had displayed in going down on his knees. Greg blew out a harsh breath as his cock twitched, mourning the loss of his supplicant’s body heat. Mycroft stood before him, his own prick nearly purple from lack of attention, and Greg simply couldn’t resist yanking him in closer by his hips to have a little taste of his own.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forever may the good ship Mystrade sail proudly into the night!
> 
> Yes! Kisses, all - please do comment!

He was far less elegant about it than Mycroft had been, messily swiping his tongue up his length and then devouring him with a noisy gulp, sucking hard from root to tip and letting go with a loud pop. He grinned wickedly up at the underside of Mycroft’s chin, as his head had been thrown back quite violently. His chest was heaving as he managed to look down and make eye contact again, his teeth clenched against the pained whine that was pushing from his throat. 

Greg winked up at him as he licked his lips saucily. “Beginning to regret this yet?”

Mycroft frowned mightily and immediately blinked twice, completely negating that line of thought before it really had a chance to begin. Greg begged his forgiveness with an almost chaste kiss to the head of Mycroft’s cock, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles over the sharp points of his hipbones. He tugged with one hand and pushed with the other, and Mycroft followed his silent edict, turning in place and presenting him with his pert little bottom. 

Greg took a moment to run his fingers along Mycroft’s arms, tracing the winding path of the ribbon, gauging the state of the binding and the flesh underneath. Mycroft obligingly wiggled his fingers as they were tugged gently, and Greg hummed his approval, noting no startling change in the colour or temperature of his skin. His small bit of maintenance complete, Greg reached up to impatiently push between Mycroft’s shoulder-blades. He once again followed the unspoken order, bending at the waist and essentially shoving his arse right in his benevolent captor’s face.

Greg snarled happily and sank his teeth into Mycroft’s left cheek, hissing out muffled laughter as a sharp squeal echoed through the cavernous space. He sucked hard at the muscle flexing in his grip, making sure to leave a mark that would be felt for a goodly number of days to come. Not that he thought Mycroft would be apt to forget what had happened here anytime soon, but still - Greg wanted to leave him with an extremely visceral reminder of their little holiday romp. Greg chuckled to himself as he imagined the British Government doing his damnedest not to squirm in his chair during any number of the interminable meetings that he’d have to endure in the next few days. 

Hell, the way he was feeling now, he’d bloody well tattoo ‘Property of G. Lestrade’ right over the crack of Mycroft’s arse in fancy script if he could. But since that was probably a bit much to be asking of him at this stage, a nice hefty bruise would just have to suffice in the short-term.

Mycroft yelped as Greg drew back, his teeth clacking as they closed around nothing but air. He grinned fiercely at the mottled red flesh, running his fingers over the spot to feel the furrows that his teeth had left behind. With one thumb pressing down on the flowering bruise as a stark reminder, Greg began to twist and pull at the red crystal tucked between Mycroft’s cheeks. He chuckled softly at the garbled sound that drifted from Mycroft’s mouth, a sort of relieved sigh mixed in with a groan of delight. Mycroft bore down as Greg pulled with a bit more intention, and the plug was worked free for the second time that night and set aside. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies! I have about 13k on this one now, and I do believe there is an end in sight! (Although I may have a part II, not sure yet.)
> 
> Please read, please comment - I adore you all!

Greg took a moment to marvel at the glistening flesh that was revealed to him, slightly puffy and pink and clearly gasping for more as it seemed to flex under his hungry gaze. He reached out to trace his fingers around the pucker, down the seam and underneath to where Mycroft’s bollocks were pulled taut from the pressure of the cock-strap. There was another moan, this time of anguish, even as Mycroft bowed his back and spread his legs a little wider, granting more access.

Greg’s cock throbbed sharply as he started to lean in closer, and he took in a harsh breath at the clear rebuke, shaking his head curtly. No. No more teasing. It was time to give the poor man exactly what he needed, although it wasn’t like he could deny his own need much longer either. Besides - Greg pressed a soft kiss to the bruise that he had bestowed only moments before - there would be time. Time for so many other wonders and pleasures to share, debaucheries and delights alike.

“Pet.” Greg cleared his throat as his voice threatened to break. “Come here, love. It’s time for your treat.” He shifted back on the chaise as he reached for the bottle he had abandoned earlier, nodding as Mycroft cautiously turned in place, his face both needy and hopeful. Greg’s fingers trembled slightly as he spread a generous amount of lube up and down and around his aching cock. He gave himself a quick squeeze of reassurance, rather assiduously ignoring Mycroft’s little snort of laughter.

Mycroft bit his lip as he put one knee up on the chaise, waiting for Greg to steady him with a strong grip around his hips before cautiously lifting the other leg, getting himself balanced over his thighs. He grunted softly as he shifted closer, holding himself in readiness for Greg’s guidance, leaning forward slightly as he was pulled down. Mycroft took in a short breath as the grip around his hips loosened, as one of Gregory’s hands slid around and down to hold his cock steady for him. He sank down slowly, letting out a quiet squeal as he felt that first breach, that divine pressure followed by that soft burn and stretch. Then he simply let go of the tension in his thighs, allowing his body weight to carry him all the way down.

Mycroft hid his wild grin in the shelter of Gregory’s neck, the cords standing out in stark relief under his lips. He sighed with satisfaction and delight as he settled himself, getting his knees properly situated as he wriggled in his seat and subtly clenched his internal muscles. Mycroft blinked rapidly as the solid chest pressed up against his vibrated with a low hum, as Gregory’s arms wrapped around him securely, simply holding him close.

He let the stiffness in his spine loosen, giving himself over to the comfort of being held even as he felt the insistent throbbing of Gregory’s heartbeat deep in his core. Mycroft’s pulse picked up as the touch shifted, as Gregory cradled his face and brought him in for a deep, probing kiss. He whimpered as his mouth was explored nimbly but tenderly, Gregory seemingly searching for something with every deliberate movement of lips and tongue.

Although Mycroft felt that perhaps he had made his own feelings perfectly apparent, he eagerly gave Gregory what he was seeking, letting the emotion that was filling his chest overflow into his mouth. Mycroft smiled against the soft growl that echoed around them, once again gathering the power of his muscles and bones underneath him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'know... I just really love these two. *sigh*
> 
> Please do comment, my lovelies - I so adore each and every one of you...

Mycroft rocked and shimmied ever so subtly in his captor’s lap, biting his lip as Gregory disengaged from his mouth, his eyes so dark that he felt he might just fall into them and never break free. Taking in a short breath that threatened to catch in his throat, Mycroft nodded as he closed his eyes for a count of three. _‘Yes.’_ He dared a small bounce as Gregory’s eyes widened, as his cheeks bloomed a delightful shade of pink. Yes to anything and everything - yes to _him_. Just - yes.

He threw his head back as Gregory ran his hands down his sides, his rough fingers caressing each curve, his thumbs working in lazy circles over his skin. Mycroft let his muscles relax as those wondrous hands wrapped around his waist, as he was held in place and impaled a few times with that - _ungh_ \- fucking perfect cock. His breath was shoved out of his throat with each thrust, a high-pitched mewl forced from his lungs to the accompaniment of rather primal grunts from his gorgeous violator.

Greg shook his head curtly as he pulled Mycroft down and held him flush to his groin, bracing his forehead against his sternum and breathing into the space between their bodies. Mycroft’s prick absolutely glared up at him, angry and red, gleaming with pre-come as it twitched against his belly. As much as Greg wanted to take and take and _take_ , this was about his lovely pressie now, and he was determined to keep his own lusts in check - at least until Mycroft had his fill, of course.

Greg leant back, looking into stormy grey eyes that were wide and wild with need, smirking slightly as he ran the fingers of one hand around and down. He fumbled at the strap still wrapped tight around Mycroft’s bits, biting his lip as the bound man absolutely wriggled with joy. He tossed it aside as soon as it was loosened, reaching up to pet Mycroft’s hair as he collapsed against his chest with a long, drawn-out groan of relief.

“There you go, you poor thing.” Greg pushed him back up by his shoulders, holding him steady as Mycroft shook in his lap, his cock jumping against his stomach. “Now - take what you need, my pretty little toy.” He showed his teeth at Mycroft’s astonished expression, chuckling low as he blinked rapidly. “Work for it, you tart.”

There was another groan, but it was accompanied by a slow grind, a deliberate roll of narrow hips, and Greg grunted out his approval as Mycroft began to move in earnest. He shimmied and he bounced, leaning forward slightly to maintain his balance, his face twisted up in an odd combination of frustration and delight. Greg clenched his teeth tight, determined not to move, not to break Mycroft’s concentration, striving to ignore his own need in the face of his new toy’s strident desperation.

Mycroft rocked back as Greg swiped the back of his fingers through his sweat-soaked chest hair, as he cupped his jaw with one hand and traced his bottom lip with his thumb. He eagerly sucked it into his mouth and bounced again, squealing around the broad digit held delicately in his teeth, tasting his own sweat on Gregory’s flesh.

“Beautiful.” Greg sighed, his eyes ranging all over Mycroft’s flushed cheeks and wanton eyes, once again tracing over his cheekbone before cupping the back of his neck. “Fucking gorgeous, you are.” He grinned fiercely as he reached around with his other hand and took hold of the knot in the red satin ribbon still holding Mycroft’s arms behind his back.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Mycroft gets his...
> 
> I think about three chapters left - almost there, my lovelies!
> 
> Please do comment!

_“Oh!”_ Mycroft gasped as his arms were pulled back even further, his body bowing in the space between Gregory’s hands and his torso, attempting to lock his knees around his captor’s hips. The sudden torquing of his body dragged the head of Gregory’s cock over his prostate, and Mycroft immediately began bucking his hips, his eyes rolling back with the overwhelming sensation. His wordless vocalisations started climbing in pitch with every uncontrolled thrust, until it was little more than a high warbling cry that just seemed to go on and on.

Greg choked out his approval, keeping his arms held straight but somewhat loose, giving Mycroft the room he needed to move, keeping his hands holding him tight. “That’s it, just had to find the right spot - keep going, I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall, got you got you...” He heaved out a shuddering breath as Mycroft did as he was told, using him, slamming his body down on his cock, striking at that spot again and again. “Yeah, just like that - _unh..._ ”

He felt it first in the loosening of Mycroft’s neck muscles, his head rolling back as the tremors started to work their way down his spine. Greg was briefly mesmerised by the fluttering of his eyelashes, the hectic spots of colour washing down his neck and chest before Mycroft’s knees pulled in tight and his internal muscles clamped down hard, spasming wildly. He sputtered with disbelief as a wave of heat and bliss radiated from his core, his own orgasm catching him rather by surprise with little more than one hard jerk of his cock.

Mycroft whined and whimpered and thrashed in his hold as his prick jumped and let fly over Greg’s stomach, painting his skin with lovely white stripes. He gasped as Greg pulled him down into him, another weak dribble oozing out of the head of his spent cock. Greg growled low as Mycroft went limp as a noodle in his grip, splaying one hand over the small of his back and grinding up into his pliant body.

“Lovely dirty filthy thing... Look at you, gone and made a mess of me and all.”

Mycroft slowly blinked himself into a state of semi-awareness, his lips quirking crookedly as he attempted a coquettish smile. Greg laughed at him openly, squeezing gently at the back of his neck in approval. Balancing him in a precariously upright position on his knees, Greg cautiously reached out for a cloth as Mycroft wobbled in place. After a quick wipe-down to prevent the possibility of them becoming glued together, he gathered him in his arms, pressing his lips to his sweaty brow as Mycroft burrowed into his neck with a little hum.

“So good for me.”

Greg’s heart swelled at the tiny giggle that was smothered into his collarbone, and he took another moment just to hold Mycroft close before reaching for the knot in the ribbon. It had been squished a bit by his rather rough handling, but one decisive tug on the right end was enough to release it. Working slowly as Mycroft moaned out his gratitude, Greg unwound the ribbon from around his arms, trailing his fingers over the indentations that had been left behind. Once it had been removed and carefully rolled up before being set aside, Mycroft let his arms dangle bonelessly with a quiet sigh, somehow wriggling deeper into Greg’s body.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The evening is coming to a close, but Greg isn't letting go of his new toy just yet...
> 
> Only a couple more to go! Please do comment, I sincerely adore you all...

Mycroft gasped in disappointment as a certain part of Gregory’s anatomy, perhaps even his absolutely favourite part, slipped from his thoroughly despoiled arsehole. He grimaced in distaste at the tickling sensation from below even as his cheeks bloomed with an unbecoming pride. Twice! Gregory had marked him as his _twice_ tonight, which was so much more than Mycroft had been hoping for.   

He purred low in his chest as warm, broad hands worked over his shoulders and arms, massaging the blood and life back into them. Mycroft shifted as his fingers began to tingle, creakily drawing his arms around Gregory’s waist in a shaky embrace. He settled in as Gregory returned the favour, his fingers lightly caressing along the small of his back as they shared in the afterglow. Mycroft startled slightly as Greg cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the rather embarrassing fact that he had been dozing lightly.

“Back to yours, then?”

Mycroft frowned as he tried to push himself up, his arms quivering like jelly as he clutched at Gregory’s shoulders. “Uh...” He shook off the blush as the utterance barely squeaked out, his brain still fuzzy and unfocused and not quite reconnected to his vocal cords just yet.

“You’re not sleeping alone tonight, Mycroft.” Greg smiled softly and traced over his cheek. _‘Not if I can help it, and maybe not ever again in your life.’_

Mycroft sputtered quietly as he noted the light of resolve in Gregory’s eyes. Even though he knew that he would not push unduly if Mycroft honestly refused him, he also knew that Gregory’s concern was not entirely unwarranted. He had done quite a thorough job in buggering him senseless - Mycroft was far too wobbly to even sit up straight on his own, never mind doing anything as complicated as driving.

“Um.” Mycroft swallowed and lifted a finger in the universal ‘wait’ gesture, smiling somewhat goofily as Gregory took his hand and pressed it to his lips. He looked at him in helpless silence for a long moment, his eyes so dark and so soft that it made Mycroft’s head spin with vertigo. Falling, falling... Why did he feel like he was falling? He hastily shut his eyes, nodding dreamily as Gregory murmured nonsense at him and stroked his hand and arm, guiding him back into himself.

“That is, if your butler won’t toss me out on my ear after taking one look at my bedraggled arse...”

Mycroft’s eyebrows drew in and he levelled his best glare at the man that was even now nibbling gently on his fingertips, his expression one of carefully controlled levity, but with a clear undertone of true anxiety in his eyes. He could clearly see that Gregory was concerned about the disparity in their respective social and economic positions, and although he understood why to some degree, he was too addled with hormones to handle it with his usual aplomb.

He growled quietly and clucked his tongue. “Don’t...have. Not - issue.” Mycroft cleared his throat as he shook his head, cursing his reluctant voice. “Guests.”

“You have guests?”

Mycroft scowled fiercely and showed his teeth, unable to hide his irritation. “Intruders. Just...showed up.” Gregory’s face brightened with understanding, and Mycroft’s heart skipped a beat in surprise. God, how easily he could read him...

“It’s your folks, isn’t it? Oh my God - you impertinent little hussy! Your parents came for Christmas and you left them all alone in your enormous house and came all the way out here just for a dirty shag! Mycroft Holmes, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not had a good weekend. I meant to post this bit Friday, but... ugh.
> 
> Please do comment - only one more after this, and then I can put my mind to writing up the day after...
> 
> Kisses, my lovelies!

Mycroft lowered his eyes bashfully and traced lightly over Gregory’s collarbone. It may have been a bit gauche of him to leave his parents to fend for themselves on Christmas Eve, but he couldn't find it in himself to be ashamed of anything that he did  _ with _ or  _ for _ this man. “Planned for months.” He felt the words starting to come together in his head, his voice clear but petulant. “Didn’t even phone! Couldn’t let them ruin it.” Mycroft glanced up, his breath catching momentarily at the look in Gregory’s eyes. “My Christmas present.”

Greg nodded, his lips curling in a foolish grin. “Yours.” He took in a deep breath, shifting in his seat as though preparing to stand. “I’ll take you to mine then, but I’m afraid it won’t be as posh or luxurious. My rough sheets just might scratch up your oh-so-delicate skin...”

Mycroft huffed in his ear as he draped himself over Gregory’s torso, trying to pin him in place. “Don’t care. With you. Want to be with you.”

Greg chuckled softly as he ran his hands down Mycroft’s back, his fingertips skipping over his sticky skin. “Oh, but you will be, my lovely toy. All night long, after a nice hot shower.” He pulled Mycroft’s face out of the shelter of his neck, looking at him seriously. “And in the morning, I will take you home, and I will stand there and watch as you apologise to your parents. That’s just appalling behaviour, pet.”

Mycroft bit his lip and fluttered his eyelashes, snorting out a weak burst of laughter as Gregory tilted his head authoritatively. “Yes, Gregory.” 

_ “Unf.” _

Mycroft quirked an eyebrow as Gregory shuddered with delight, feeling far too pleased with himself, despite said appalling behaviour - or perhaps even _because_ of it. He was too preoccupied with his own cleverness to even notice as Gregory shifted him from his lap onto the chaise. Mycroft curled up on himself as he immediately started to shiver, and Gregory gave the back of his neck a reassuring squeeze as he went to search out his belongings.

Tucked up somewhat behind the Christmas tree, Greg rooted out both a large duffel and a suit carrier. He draped the suit carrier over the back of the chaise and opened the duffel, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Pulling out a rather fluffy blanket, he draped it over Mycroft’s shivering form and dug around a bit more, unearthing a fancy neck pillow and pyjamas as well as a toiletry kit. Whatever plans Mycroft may have prepared for, one of the contingencies had obviously included camping here for the night. 

Shaking his head, Greg swiftly pulled on his own clothes and shoes before settling back down next to the blanket-shrouded form. Being careful to ensure that all of Mycroft’s limbs were tucked in rather neatly, he pulled him back into his lap and cradled him close. He was still relatively limp with his exertions, his auburn hair wet with sweat as he continued to shiver. Mycroft's eyelashes fluttered beautifully as Greg gently nudged at his cheek with his nose, bringing him back to semi-awareness. 

Greg pulled away after pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Mycroft's mouth. “Did you really think that I was just going to fuck you and then leave you here in this horrible cold place all alone?

Mycroft whimpered as he tried to burrow into him, shaking his head. “No... Not really, but I had to prepare for that possibility, as unlikely as it seemed at the time.” He blinked up at Greg, his eyes moist. “I am not quite as arrogant as my little brother, Gregory. I acknowledge that sometimes my deductions will prove to be incorrect. I did not truly  _ think _ that you would abandon me, but I also did not  _ know _ that you would not do so.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the last chapter of unabashed Christmas smut! I do have ideas about a follow-up, but I am unsure as to how long it may be, and whether I will add a second part, or just continue to post on this story. We'll see. I am determined to at least finish up my Werestrade/Vampcroft if it kills me!
> 
> Kisses to all my lovelies, please do comment. I'm not ashamed to say that it's something I need, especially lately.

“Git.”

“Yes. Sometimes.” Mycroft shrugged idly, his eyes already drifting closed again. “Often.”

“You’re gonna drive me barmy.” Mycroft giggled and then whimpered quietly as he was once again shifted from a warm and cosy lap to a cold velvet chaise. “Shush. I can’t carry you _and_ all your gear.”

Mycroft tilted his head to grace Gregory with a significant frown. “I _can_ walk, you know. Despite your rather impressive skills, you didn’t _completely_ incapacitate me.” He struggled to turn over in his blanket, only to find that he had been wrapped too securely.

Greg stood by with his hands on his hips, watching patiently. He smiled politely as Mycroft stopped thrashing, his chest heaving as he glared up at him crossly. Greg crouched by his head, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his forehead. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Grumpypants.”

Mycroft growled. “Mister _what_?”

Greg just laughed, grazing his lips over Mycroft’s cheeks and jaw. “Two ticks, and I’ll be right back for you.”

Although Mycroft continued to grumble from his compromised position as he watched Gregory walk away with his meagre luggage, he couldn’t keep his eyes from slipping shut once he was out of his line of sight. He had hoped, oh how he had hoped... Mycroft knew that he could consider his personal mission objective to be resolved quite satisfactorily, but he was left feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all. Thankfully, Gregory was exceeding all of his expectations, and yes - he would let him do just about anything he wanted with him, even if that included letting him look after him.

He didn’t even startle as Gregory came back to collect him, even though there was a distinct if incoherent grunt in his ear as he was hoisted up. Mycroft simply hummed low as he was carried, feeling as though he were floating on a warm if rather bumpy cloud. The sensation intensified as he was carefully manhandled into the passenger seat of Gregory’s car, as he had already started the engine to get the heater running. Mycroft shifted as he was buckled in, clumsily attempting to kiss his benefactor’s cheek. He missed by a significant distance, landing a closed-lip smack on a crinkled eyebrow instead.

“Je tombe...”*  

Greg chuckled and leant in to press his lips to Mycroft’s temple. “Je vais t'attraper.”** Mycroft squealed happily, his head swaying slightly as he tried to focus on his face. Greg quickly shook his head, putting a finger to Mycroft’s lips. “No, no - save it for later. You’re just too high for me to take you seriously right now.” He chuckled quietly as hazy grey eyes widened in outrage. “Tomorrow, all right? For now, just hush.”

Mycroft grumbled again, but there was no heat in it. Instead he simply let his head roll back and to the side, watching as Gregory got himself situated in the driver’s seat. He tried valiantly to keep his eyes open, but the rhythm of the car was simply too soothing to resist, and he slipped away once again, this time fairly solidly.

Greg smiled at the first soft snore, pondering just how he was going to get both his surprisingly dense pressie and his luggage up the stairs to his modest flat. And once up there - how to wrangle him into the shower and then tucked up into bed? His chest warmed as he glanced over at Mycroft’s face, finding it to be almost angelic in sleep, even with his auburn hair frightfully mussed. Ultimately, it didn’t matter, did it? He’d find some way to make it happen. It was his responsibility to look after him now.   

His new toy, his darling pet. His lovely Christmas surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * "I’m falling..."  
> ** "I’ll catch you."


End file.
